Tales on the Beach
by Bletherskite
Summary: Pulled from the literary world in which he has more than happily buried his spiky head, Sonic is cornered into explaining the hows and whys of the act Tails has caught him in. The fox kit is eager to learn more, though Sonic seems hesitant to tell tales of the obvious elephant on the beach. Perhaps because of both the future and past implications curious questionings may incur.


**Thank you for clicking on my story! This is my first, so I may be a little unsure as to what I'm doing with it (and also getting to grips with the site...). Please give me constructive feedback so I know what to work on and edit. Also there will be some spelling/grammatical errors but they (provided they are within the speech of little Sonic and Tails) are intended. This was supposed to set their character, as I can imagine them dropping language rules when over excited. Though I have tried to curb it so that it is not irritating and is realistic. Please tell me if It's not...**

**Sonic and Tails are young, perhaps around 11 and 4 years old, but picture it however works best for you. Enjoy! (Hopefully...)**

**Disclaimer: All characters belong to SEGA and the book quotations are not owned by myself, rather by Harper Lee. I own nothing.**

Lounging in the sun, back flattened against a towelled patch of sand. One knee reaching for the burning ball of gas directly over head (or knee), the other slouching off to the side somewhere, but content none the less. And finally: book in hand.

Perfect. ' … aloud, she discovered that I was literate and looked at me with more than faint distaste. Miss Caroline told me to tell my father not to teach me any more, it would interfere with my...' "Reading. Ugh. Nugh. Ahh." was the breathy sounds released not fully consciously. As the reader paused their literary indulgence to shift into a more preferred position on the towel. After rolling the shoulders and chest to embed the elbows into the comfortable grooves that the sand beneath gave way to form. A wrinkle of the snout and a wriggle of the rear, said reader gasped in the well seasoned air and re-embarked in the tale. Eyes wide to absorb every word, ears alert to the conversations on the page, despite there being a lack of sound to hear for you and I. And, so it seems, to our fellow observer.

The bucket swayed back and forth. The child gazed at it in good humour. Seems water occasional escaping via a jerk and a slosh is mildly amusing. This coming from a child genius. But a child all the same. At the flash of blue leg the kid caught, he looked up as if to say something. Stopping mid breath to clamp down on the pre-words and stop to ,once again, gaze. This time with furrowed brow and tilted head. Ears resembling somewhat the knees of the reader.

' ..., or achieving two bows from a snarl of shoelaces. I could not remember when the lines above Atticus's moving finger separated into words, but...' Eyes scanned through the lines above his own moving finger. Stubby tail avidly attempting to follow the lines too, a palpable sign of contentment. '… Calpurnia's teaching there was no sentimentality: I seldom pleased her and she seldom rewarded mm...'

"meeEEheya... whoo, you scared me there little bro, don't do that!" was the out of puff remark. He was enjoying that. He'd only turned a little more onto his left side to stretch his right arm. Book still in tow. Of course. That was when he spotted those penetrative blue irises staring at him. Silently posing him a question. Or interrogating him. He hadn't had the time to judge that just yet.

The decidedly reader-no-more started to awkwardly get up from his enthralled position, gradually moving the book, finger in place, to a less noticeable spot (behind his left most quills on his back). "Sonic? What where you reading 'bout?" 'SNAP!' Went the book. And up went the hedgehogy eyebrows. Oh heck. Cue filler noises. Okay, use this time to think, not 'what where you reading', but 'what about' ? The kit must have saw the title when sonic had his literary prize airborne. Cue more awkward filler noises. "...erm, well, I, ah..." One hand clamped his other wrist behind his quill ridden back. Tail on high alert and fulfilling a new purpose: bookmark.

He was squirming, Tails noted. Sort of like his second tail does when mentioned. Not that he actually knows which of the two is the primary or secondary tail, but they seem to. Or perhaps they take it in turns. 'Note to self, take more notice next time, might distract you from the scene that Sonic is bound to make chew'en _them_ out cause of their disparaging comments' He'd heard Sonic say that once. Disparaging. "kinda thing tha puts ya down." was the hedgies response. Funny that. Sonic knew big words, though he rarely used them. Was that for Tails benefit? But he considered him an equal right? Hadn't the fox shown his worth and intellect with the whole plane fiasco?

As a matter of fact, whenever he did say a big word, it was as if he'd let it slip. By accident. Tails would ask what it meant and the blue bombshell would stop and look at him utter confusion in his eyes. Shake his head so slight that the only indication was the twitch of the odd stray quill, then scrunch his nose up together with one half of his upper lip. He would genuinely have no recollection of using it, it seemed. Till the fox would make a troubled noise and repeat (sometimes rather mangled) the strange word back to him. Sonic would then proceed to stare in the same manner till he blinked. That blink was like a 'click!' His eyes would widen, allowing enough light exposure to give a sneak peek of deep green before he righted his countenance and black one again swamped out the colour to his eyes and the window to his soul. Then the mental wall would come crashing down with his blue lids, a self assured smile would smear it's self across his muzzle and, with chin up, he would rattle of a snappy definition. Always simple enough for his young charge to grasp (sometimes to simple he'd think to himself) and always with an unintelligent feel. Not unintelligent/uneducated/uncivilised per-say, but just not true to the flash of wisdom the hedgehog had moments ago seemed to allow to shine. Slang. Disrespect for grammar. And a shrug of the shoulders did it. Occasionally a scratch behind the ear, a perplexed expression or a "nehr, or sumfin like dat". Would finish off the performance and the subject would be dropped all together

But this reading a book business was proof of what the cub had been suspecting. Those glimpses. Oh, sure, he'd seen Sonic read before. Street signs. Menus. Maps. The manual for his plane (though admittedly it took all of 30 seconds before he'd rumple up his little face and promptly throw it over his shoulder). Comics. Even Newspaper articles (one at a time as usually after seeing 'appearance/attack' and 'Robotnik' on the same page he'd do a repeat of the 'plane manual act'). But never a proper book. He didn't think Sonic was dumb. Far from it, the kit practically sat a halo on top his head. It was just so uncharacteristic of him. Sonic liked fast, adventurous, entertaining, changing things. Something thrilling to fill the thirst for adrenaline, yet varied so as not to loose the interest of his short attention span. But a book? No.

It didn't seem to tick any boxes on the 'Sonic's Needs' list. Yet here he was. Plain as day. In front of him. Holding a partly read book. And had shown no signs of boredom (or the need to run) prior to the foxes appearance.

Said fox surfaced from is musings as he remembered the now wriggling like a fish out of water, hydrophobic hedgehog before him. " 's it good?"

"..ah...?" It was a miracle the hedgehog heard the little voice through all of his own stuttering. He sighed. "Y-Yeah." A small hum in acknowledgement was all Sonic received. The fear of being caught in the act still rampant in his blood stream was making the need to fidget, to run, insatiable. Though now he had a tag-along. No brother. Just taking off was no longer that easy. Though the foxes little ploy had coaxed him into relaxing somewhat. One hand, no longer gripping a wrist in a death hold, drummed it's fingers along the side of his thigh. His little claws eventually started to irritate and hurt. Reminding him of his lack of gloves. They'd make him feel better. More like Sonic The Hedgehog. That and hide his sweating palms. Reaching for the white cloth glopming the corner of the towel by his feet, Sonic gave a mournful sigh. Quite out of place on such a paradisical beach. Now how to get on both gloves one handed and with book... "I saw it before..."

Pause. Eyebrows rose to full hight before he did. 'What is he talking about?' It was then bluey noticed the corner of the book poking out behind his right-most back quills. "In a book shop. They had it on display." It must have peeked out on his right when he bent down to get the gloves on his left...

"Big kids study it and stuff, y'know? Bigger than us. It's supposed to be in almost every school. Least that's what the librarian said..." his eyes finally left the cheeky corner of the book and darted to the once again widened eyes that dreaded any number of possible next words. "Is that where you found it? In your school?" It was phrased in an innocent, round-about way. Though 'twas topped off with an adorable head tilt. After a few moments the hedgehog straightened. As did his expression.

"I don't go to school. And no, I didn't know that." it was almost without feeling. The same way Sonic used to say things before Tails managed to get him used to talking. At least to the child himself. It was almost as though Tails probing had shocked Sonic into regression. "Have you ever though? Did you want to? Do yo-" Sonic's chest rose and fell. He made no sound, or movement otherwise. Tails knew to stop. This wasn't the best set of questions. Time for a new approach. "I like to read." A pause. Followed by a slow weighty nod from the subject in question. 'Progress' Tails noted. "I'm not so good at it though. I'd like to be better, like you! How'd you get so good?"

"Who said I was any good?" It was almost whispered in remorse.

"I do!"

"Tails, you wouldn't know."

"No, no! I do! Look, you reading a big book right?" Bucket long since forgotten, a soggy glove complete with wrist strap held a pointed finger in the direction of the book. Both pairs of eyes turned to it. One less eager than the other. "You should only tackle tha kinda readin material, if your a big kid! OR, a good reader. You'd have ta be to understand it. That's why teachers need t teach it in schools. 'Cause even some big kids might find it difficult, right?" Sonic squinted at his reasoning. "An' you looked like you where enjoyin it! So you must understand it and to understand and enjoy it you must be good at reading it!" Excited little fox, he had to stop for a breather after that little motivational speech. " I... I guess?" Sonic looked as though Tails was going to turn into a big, adult, feral fox right then and there and gobble him right up for lunch any moment. Tails just beamed in triumph at getting Sonic to accept something to be genuinely proud of him self for. Not born of his 'freaky mutation' and not hindered by his 'Poor attention span'. He could read. Well at that. He was reading something that 'big kids' with 4 or 5 years on him (and a complete school record) could. And he got it. Sonic looked down at the literature in question. Twisting it in his hand. As though the light would split into fractions one it reached the perfect yet natural cuts that shaped the book before him, before bouncing off in different directions and letting the sand glisten in the spot lights. Of course a book, with it's opaque pages can not do that. That privilege was reserved for precious stones, diamonds, rubies, emeralds. But hey, why not exercise that underused imagination once in a while?

Suppose he told the kit. How he learned, no, was taught to read. About the myriad of books. The smell of musty old paper and of lactose free milk beside warm and fresh cookies. Peering at the words by candle light, fire light and occasionally... chaos light.

Sonic's narrow shoulders shifted as though snuggling into something soft, and bulky. His breath became relaxed and sighs deep and content. " I-" He forgot himself there for a moment. Much to Sonic's dismay Tails had heard and was now all ears and two tails. The older of the two cleared his throat in a struggling sort of way. Shoved the book under one arm shifted his socks and (give him a second... ah! Now.) newly acquired shoes to this newly freed hand. The other arm dragged the little, palatially wet down one side (stupid water filled bucket), fox into the space beneath his hedgehog armpit. A space, Sonic decided, Tails would out-grow if the hedgie himself didn't do some growing of his own. Maybe the farmer he saved last week would do him a deal on fetilliser?

As they trawled the rest of the shore line ( complete with a lovely large girth between mobian and sea) making their way 'tornado-wards', the 'self war waging' hoglet started to tell his tale.

Not the complete tale of course! He wouldn't lie. No. He would just, miss out important snippets of information. Facts and a like. The fox can misinterpret all he likes if he wants but Sonic would stick to his story.

"I-I spent some time with a human. Guy practically raised me. At least, for the years I was with him."

"How come I've never heard about him even a little? Don't you like to talk about him? Did he die? Is that why?"

'Ever the curious one...' A roll of the eyes. "No he didn't die. And I don't always _like_ to talk about it. It's complicated y'know? But you just gotta know that he isn't really around much any more. Not the way he used to be at least..."

"Oh."

" But this guy. A kind, wise human took me in one day, when I was pretty young. I don really remember when exactly. But young. He was real good to me. Used to play games with me, and teach me about his world, my world, our world, an-"

"Wow! You were friends wit an alien!?"

"What? No, I meant, ugh, I mean, like about how humans live, how mobians live and about the planet in general... you follow? … Good, like I was saying, he would teach me all kinds of stuff. And he used to have a big room, and all the walls was filled with book cases and every book case was jam-packed with books, new, old, thin, thick, stories, encyclopedias, dictionary's, books on planes, books on people, books about life and books about space. Every kind of book you can think of times 27."

"That is a lot of books... his house must have been huge..."

"You bet it was, and that was just one room! It was made out of the side of a hill and went underground and stuff, right under the village! And I stayed their with him, and he let me go in all the rooms, whenever I wanted except his lab cause he said I had to be supervised in there what with all the dangerous chemicals and sharp tools and heavy machinery. But, see at night, the doc didn't have a TeeVee for us to jus sit and fall asleep staring at, so we used t go in his library and read."

"Why? Did it bore you to sleep?"

"Nooooooh, it just helped you know? Got us all relaxed and with a good thought on our minds to go to sleep with, good things to dream about. See the fire'd have been on before I'd even think about goin in, so when we did it'd be all cozy and warm. Then we'd head twards a big old worn maroon leather armchair, the kind with the buttons in and that hardly squeeks when you sit down cause the leathers so soft. And when I set in it myself, the arms was clear above my head! But we'd sit in it together. Him first, then he'd scoop me up and stand me on his knobbely knees so I could wander on his lap and find the bestest most comfiest spot! Then he'd grab us a book, but we wudn't read it unless we both wan'ed to! An' both his arms would come around me with the book in front, like a big castle wall and gate. And..."

And the more the hedgepig reminisced, the more vivid the memories became. Little details charging at him thick and fast. The warmth of the elder scientist behind him penetrating through his always pristine white lab coat. How his hands, although hard working, were always to the little hoglet as soft and gentle as the rest of him. Sonic could recall the exact movements to perform to get himself comfortable in the crook the doctor seemed to create in his lap, perfectly Sonic sized. Despite not being able to fully bring to mind the titles they read together, the stories remained ingrained in his memory. Many of the tales, even childish and imaginary ones had morals to each twist in the plot. These contributed to who he was today. Would become in the future. Those early years that Dr. Kintobor spent nurturing and loving the little mobian as if he was his own flesh and blood, stuck with the pup for life. Regardless as to whether his training would always remain in Sonic's memory, the lessons and morals would. Yet in this moment in time he could remember it so clearly;

The pups hands caused Ovi to think of light bulbs. Similar in size was the obvious reason. Ah, not so obvious was what was hidden by the light bulb sized (there or there abouts) pure white cotton gloves, stubby peach paws, that stood out so profoundly to the cobalt blue fur (especially when in the exceptionally dull lighting in the library) seemed to shine brightly, almost emitting light themselves. It was a rare site during the day, however, come bath time all garments had to be removed. No sense in putting them back on when bedtime was so imminent (fur was covering enough in the tempret weather). So the gloves were off to coin a phrase. The little speedster would trot around on his lap for a few moments, like a cat does before it finds the perfect spot. And once Sonic would find his perfect spot, the little boy would sit and wriggle into his guardian's chest, shoulders shifting as if plumping his lab coat like a pillow.

Sonic was an … energetic boy. Never one to stay still for long. But the prospect of sitting placid on his 'father's' lap for amounts of time that seemed unfathomable to the young one, appeared to get him excited. He looked forward to it. The scientist did to, turns out a good story before bed helps to put hyperactive little hedgehogs in a calm and rather docile mood. Excellent.

He wanted Sonic to learn to read. It would be of great assistance to him latter in life, the scientist was a big believer in mastering these kinds of things when young as being far more beneficial than attempting to do so at a latter date. Though the little hedgie did not comply at first. After much research, observation and conversation with the mammal in his care Kintobor concluded that Sonic had merely been shy. Unsure that what he was thinking and doing was right and so, not wanting to disappoint his only favourite doctor with his potential mistakes, would just clam up.

So the benevolent middle aged human had taken to ensuring his approach to reading, though it was a necessity, was relaxed. Praise was given at every opportunity and when mistakes were made they were corrected in a calm and loving way. Not scaring the child into thinking the world was going to end because he read 'The Tortoise And The Hare' as 'The Torto-eye-see and the Harry'.

Following Dr. K's finger proved to be of help. This brings us back to our previous point. Those peachy little fingers would grip as tight as they possibly could to the overlander's oversized in comparison index finger. Bless his little white cotton socks, he used two little clawed hands. As a result his body seemed to move with the words and rhythmic pattern of the elders reading. Yet the eyes never left the tip of the finger. That was where the words couldn't hide what they where any more. His fathers finger seemed to chase away all of the other words that could trick him and get him confused, the finger tip forced his active little mind to focus on one group of letters at a time. Then he could work it out. Like his quills he had a sharp mind. The doctor noted that he just needed a way to focus it, to channel it. For the time being he needed help with that, and the tall one was content to provide just that.

When it was time for long words, he had to split them up. "r-rr-r-re-r-re-e-re..." he tried to rush and do it all at once now that he could read all of the children's book for his age and slightly above without help. Or mistakes. Though now that meant that he had forgotten how to slow down. Or didn't want to. "Don't look at the whole word, one bit at a time, you have the first piece of the puzzle my boy 're' now for the second..." Kintobor's fingers blocked off everything but the syllable in question. "m-me-mem, re-mem..." At that the third syllable was revealed. "b-beer-bur-br-ber … re-mem-ber … remember!" the pup swizzled round with an anxious look on his furred face. As he looked up at the figure hunched over him it replied "Well done! That was a big word you just read! I am so proud of you!" Sonic couldn't sit still, he was writhing twisting left and right with happy energy, often trying to get a comfortable head on view of the man behind him. Tail wagging at speeds surely unnatural for such a stubby appendage. A proud smile infected both face and muzzle. The hoglet subconsciously released a high pitched squeak of delight. Doc laughed and bent further down to nuzzle atop the child's head with his 'beak' and ginger moustache. The nuzzle-ee in turn rolled into the nuzzle more than pleased with the display of affection available.

**Thank you again for sticking it out to the end! Long winded I know and I am heartily sorry! Not sure whether to leave this as a one-shot or continue it a little. Depends on feedback I suppose. Well I had fun writing it. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed your read! **

**Bletherskite**


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